The Everest Trial
by Mind Jack
Summary: It is the epitome of danger and death. At 29,000 feet, Everest leaves even the most experienced climbers broken and at the mercy of nature's fury. Will the Masters of the Jade Palace claim the glory, or will they join the many fallen climbers already on the mountain? Idea by Nicholas Wilde.
The warmth of the last dying embers faded into the night, leaving only the cold, swirling as quickly as the wind. At the back of the room sat a lone Musk Deer, who stared solemnly stared downward, listening to the endless howling of the storm outside. He was a Sherpa, one who had encountered many blizzards in his lifetime, and had learned to cope with them, and even use them.

He sighed, leaving a small cloud of vapor, and closed his eyes. He silently listened to the constant rolling avalanches off the Lhotse face crash onto the ground below, the ruckus slowly residing back into the wind. And once in a while, the occasional sound of creaking and cracking ice traveled down the Khumbu Icefall, as the enormous glaciers twisted and contorted their façades.

The elderly deer rose slowly to his feet, steadying himself with a driftwood staff. His face was hard, like that of an experienced old man. But his eyes were young and optimistic. He inhaled deeply, taking in the freezing mountain air, and exhaled, leaving another cloud of vapor. Ever so slowly, he walked to his small, buttoned down window. His hands shook slightly as he worked to undo one, in an attempt to get a peek of the outside world. He then peeled the drape back, carefully resisting the powerful wind fighting to get in, and glanced outward, his expression changing significantly. He quickly re-buttoned the curtain before making his way to the door. He swung it open, to be met with a blast of icy wind and bullet-like snowflakes. It was near pitch black, but through the howling storm, beyond the mountains, and into the sky, peeked the first ray of light, transforming the horizon into an eerie purple shroud. The Sherpa squinted his eyes, surveying the distant snow covered planes. There, he spotted a white wolf draped in heavy clothing and bags, progressing towards the house. The deer turned and returned to his home, quickly throwing new firewood into the stone fireplace. As he feed the reemerging flame, the Sherpa hastily prepared some tea for his guest. Behind him, he heard the door swing open once more, only to slam shut, leaving a tall shivering wolf standing in the doorway. He was covered from head to toe in heavy black clothing, stained white from the endless blowing snow. His ice axes and multiple ropes dangled from a loose belt around his waist, close to the leather rucksack that was strung over his back.

The deer poured a cup of tea. "What took you so long?" He asked without looking at the freezing canine. He growled. "Save your breath. I've been trekking through this bloody storm for two days now. Damn snow reduced my visibility to a zero. 'Twas nearly swallowed up by a hidden crevasse near the icefall."

The Sherpa glanced towards him concerned. "What in the world were you doing near the icefall?"

The wolf removed his hat and brushed the snow off his ears and neck. "Like I said, the visibility was near zero."

The old deer shakily handed his guest some tea. "Hmmm... Well why are you here? The trial doesn't start for another month and a half."

That's the thing..." Replied the canine. "The grand masters want to challenge this year's contestants..."

The deer about sprayed his tea outward. "What!? They want to start now!?"

The lupine nodded.

"Challenge the contestants!? They'll kill the contestants, that's what they'll do!" The now furious Sherpa shouted. "Attempting this trial before the proper weather window is near suicide!"

"Near suicide." Repeated the wolf.

"I simply won't allow it!" He snapped back. "Return to your masters and tell them to check their heads! They obviously have no idea what the pre-season weather can do to a person."

"You don't have a choice." The wolf said calmly before taking a sip of tea. "All I need is your list of contestants, and I'll be on my way. But if you don't deliver, the council will choose for themselves."

The Sherpa dropped his cup. "Let the council choose! At least it won't be by my hand! Because here, at the trials, you are never safe. Once you set foot on Everest, you are alone. No matter how prepared you are. And if something goes wrong, you're on your own."

* * *

 ** _Hey everyone. MJ here. This story is originally by an author named Nicholas Wilde. But since he doesn't have enough time on his hands to work on it, he asked me to ghostwrite it for him, and I agreed. Might be a bit weird, since I have an OC in this story from a story I haven't posted yet, but I can get around it. Anyway, credit for this story goes to him._**

 ** _Don't worry. I'll still be working on my other stories._**

 ** _Until we meet again,_**

 ** _Mind Jack, OUT!_**


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